


Spin the Bottle

by storieswelove



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drinking, Lots of kissing, M/M, drunk house parties are for bad decisions, lots of more than kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 14:27:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21303599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storieswelove/pseuds/storieswelove
Summary: "David’s spin somehow defied the laws of physics. Patrick was sure that time slowed down as the bottle neared him, his chest tightening again as he forgot to breathe."AU where no one gets to kiss on "Grad Night," but Patrick still has a housewarming, and now they're playing spin the bottle. Because drunk house parties are for bad decisions.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 100
Kudos: 482





	Spin the Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> This is by far my favorite AU idea I've ever had, and nothing brings me more joy than drunk fools in love making poor decisions at a house party.

David and Patrick had established an easy rhythm in the year since the store opened. Patrick came in early after his hikes, and David stayed late to count the cash and restock the floor for the following day, just the way he liked it. When they were together, conversation flowed easier than ever, and the warmth of their friendship permeated every corner of the store. 

Patrick had thought, in the beginning, that there was something between them. He had asked David out, his first date with a guy. He had even spent the afternoon trying to put together a gift; one that would make it clear that Patrick was serious, that he wanted to give this a try. But the framer ran late and he had gone to the birthday dinner empty handed. It was all downhill from there. 

Stevie had shown up, and Patrick’s hopes, which had never been this high before, came tumbling down with a crash. After months of relentlessly flirting with David, doing everything to get his attention, David had politely told Patrick no to dinner, and when Patrick had pushed, he’d brought his ex along with him for the “date.” Patrick could take the hint. 

He had made his peace with the situation, both for the sake of the store and his sanity. He was grateful for the friendship David had given him, and grateful for the clarity knowing him had brought Patrick. 

He’d had other firsts now too. One of their vendors, a tall guy named Jake, had kissed him when he was at his woodshop picking up chairs for the store. Patrick hadn’t expected it, but Jake was objectively handsome, so he’d leaned into the moment. But Patrick had stopped before it went too far, making some weak excuse about the store and not wanted to ruin a business relationship. As if Patrick hadn’t been ready to throw it all away to wreck a business relationship, on the off chance… 

He’d gotten a phone number too. A cute guy named Ken had given it to Patrick in the shop, right in front of David and Alexis. David had been wide-eyed afterward, and his voice had gone a little screechy. Jealous, Patrick was sure, not to have gotten Ken’s number himself. Alexis had looked sad and tried to change the subject, trying to diffuse the tension. Her valiant attempt to be a good sister had made Patrick miss his cousins. 

He had gone out with Ken, a real date this time, both of them on the same page. Ken’s shoes had freaked Patrick out, but he’d pushed past it — he had already lost so much time. He’d asked Ken out again, kissed him in the car, gone up to Ken’s apartment, willing himself to let go of what he couldn’t have, wondering how many dates and kisses and men separated him from a heart free of yearning for David. 

Their banter had never stopped, either. Patrick had tried, he really had, but it was impossible. Flirting with David was as easy as breathing, woven into the very fabric of their relationship. He wondered how many hearts David had wrecked in his life, with his dark eyes and his perfect face and his specific attention, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the room. Patrick didn’t know how he would ever recover from it. 

But Stevie was always around, and Patrick was sure they were still sleeping together. The constant verbal sparring, which Patrick had thought was uniquely his and David’s, was even more present in their relationship. Plus, Patrick knew how exes went. He had done that dance with Rachel for so many years. He wondered if Stevie knew, if she resented him, because Patrick could never keep the fondness off his face for long. He was positive David knew, was too polite to say anything. Patrick was grateful for his tact. 

He rented his first solo apartment too, spurred into action by one too many dates ending uncomfortable in someone else’s home. His fling with Ken was over, but he knew it was time to move out and move on. He’d found a place in Schitt’s Creek, walking distance to the store, and asked David to help him decorate. He did it just to see David’s face light up, always thrilled and a little surprised to have someone ask for his expertise. David had been incredible, helping him pick out furniture that Patrick actually liked, and then helping him move in, because “what are friends for?” They’d hauled it all up the stairs, David hilariously inept at carrying boxes, perfect rectangles that he called “awkwardly shaped.” 

When Patrick had thrown out the idea of a housewarming, David had insisted he help him plan. 

“Oh, no, David, you’ve seriously helped me so much already. I can handle a party.” 

“Ummm, ok, you can’t just _ reject help _ from the best party planner you know. Need I remind you that I threw Jocelyn’s baby shower in less than a day?” 

David had gone on some long rant about mood boards and glass-blown Venetian masks, and Patrick had laughed and accepted the help, on the condition they stick to his theme idea: good, old fashioned high school slumber party. David had protested, with ramblings about “salad bowls of E” and “models in bras and thongs,” but Patrick had won him over with the promise of trays and trays of party shots. He tried not to think about what mistakes they might make after a few rounds of vodka-soaked strawberry jello, reminding himself that David had closed that door months ago. 

The party was a blast. David and Alexis eviscerated each other in the most targeted game of Never Have I Ever that Patrick has ever seen, and Ted had shown up looking far hotter than Patrick thought he had the right to. Stevie and David seem to agree, the latter ignoring his sister’s hisses and giddily offering Ted shots. Patrick had had to push down the jealousy then, the aching desperation for David to look at him like that coursing through every inch of his body. 

They played Twister after that, Patrick’s weak excuse for some accidental contact with David. Their legs crossed on a left-foot-blue, right-foot-red, and they stood almost nose to nose. David held his gaze for a beat too long, a hint of a smile on his face, until the announcement of the next move broke the spell. The ill-timed left-hand-green left Patrick practically straddling David’s leg, arched over his torso. David ended up in a bridge pose, more flexible than Patrick could have imagined. He barely dared to breathe. He almost fell when their chests bumped, and David smiled up at him the most radiant smile Patrick had ever seen. A left-hand blue sent them both tumbling, Patrick falling on top of David like he’d dreamt of falling on him into bed, and it was almost enough to end the party early and send everyone home, because Patrick didn’t know how he’d recover from there. 

But then someone suggested spin the bottle, and they’d ended up across the circle from each other, David quirking his eyebrow and smiling that half smile every time they made eye contact. Patrick was not sober enough to keep his chill, suddenly regretting the five red Jell-O shots. He knew he could not possibly recover if a one-time _ anything _ happened with David, but right then and there he was ready to take the gamble and let the fallout be future Patrick’s problem. 

The empty wine bottle landed on Stevie, too engrossed in her phone to notice. 

“Hey, wanna put Emir away for a hot sec so the game can keep going?”

_ Emir _? Maybe she and David weren’t together after all. Patrick felt his pulse spike and willed it to chill the fuck out. 

Alexis upped the theatrics when the bottle landed on her, suggestively cooing at Ted while Stevie crawled across the circle. Alexis spun and somehow got Ted. 

Then Ted spun, landing on David. He bounded across the circle, and Patrick’s entire chest constricted, the earlier jealousy flaring up, threatening to consume him. 

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.” Alexis’s snap at her brother brought Patrick out of his haze, but David just laughed at her and rolled his eyes. 

“Ok, calm down, Alexis, we’re done.” 

David’s spin somehow defied the laws of physics. Patrick was sure that time slowed down as the bottle neared him, his chest tightening again as he forgot to breathe. But the bottle stopped just short of him, pointing at — 

“Ew, David, no!” 

“Absolutely not!” 

David and Alexis were both gagging, hands gesturing wildly, for once their drama matching the actual horror of the situation. 

“I will _ leave _ this party before I kiss my sister.” 

Alexis shuddered as she reached forward, flicked the bottle just enough so that it landed on — 

“Patrick,” said Alexis, turning to him. “Sorry, but I am _ not _kissing my brother.” 

Alexis smirked at David, who looked horrified. 

Patrick sputtered. “Oh, no, you don’t have to...we can just—“ 

“Alexis, you can’t just fucking _ re-spin _ for me, that’s not how this works.” 

Alexis smirked at her brother. 

“David, are you seriously going to be a stickler for the rules right now?” 

_ What the hell did she mean by that? _

David squeezed his eyes shut, tilted his head back, lips pursed, and finally, _ finally _ made eye contact with Patrick. He shook his head apologetically. 

“Sorry, Patrick, but the theme was your idea.” 

Terrified, but unable to take his eyes off David, he tried for a small smile, hoping he looked less desperate than he felt. 

David gracelessly crawled across the circle to Patrick, whose heart was hammering so loudly against his chest that he thought he might be having a heart attack. David sat up on his knees, gave him a twisted smile, grabbed the back of Patrick’s head with his ringed hand, and kissed him. It was gentle and sweet and he could feel David smiling against his mouth. It ended far too soon. 

Patrick had no idea how to sit there, in a room full of people, pretending he was fine, like he hadn’t just had the best kiss of his entire life from a game of _ spin the fucking bottle _, like the world hadn’t just tilted on its axis. His face was flushed — everyone must see it — but all he could do was stare at David, who was making steady eye contact again. David was fighting a smile, and Patrick thought maybe he had felt the ground move too. 

Ted broke the silence, oblivious to the temperature shift in his drunken haze. 

“All right, Patrick! Your turn!” 

David scooted back to his spot, looking down at the floor, lips pursed again. He looked almost bashful. 

Patrick shook his head as if that might clear it. He took a deep breath and spun, willing whoever it landed on to help break the tension. 

It stopped on David. 

David looked up, and Patrick held his gaze, refused to waver. He saw the want plastered all over David’s face. 

Patrick felt all the swagger he thought he’d lost in the months since the failed date come rushing back. He slid across the circle, never breaking eye contact. When they were inches apart, Patrick cocked his head, winked, and kissed David with everything he had. 

Somewhere in the back of his head he sure it was a faux pas to kiss your business partner with tongue during a party game, in a room filled with your friends, but hey, what can you do? David tasted like booze and lemon-lime jello, and his tongue swiping into Patrick’s mouth made every nerve in his body light up. 

When Patrick pulled back, he couldn’t look away, couldn’t take his eyes off David. 

Stevie cleared her throat, He’d forgotten she was there; forgotten all of them were there. She was smirking at them, and suddenly David was burying his face in his hands. 

“I think it’s time for a new game!” said Alexis, jumping up from the circle. “Who wants to play charades? A shot for every wrong guess!” Alexis diffused the tension, pulling attention away from them. It left Patrick free to look back at David, whose eyes looked like they were on fire. Alexis, it turned out, is a pretty great little sister. 

* * *

They were in a one-room apartment with nowhere to hide, surrounded by thirty people, but David kept catching Patrick’s eye, grinning from ear to ear. Patrick refilled David’s drink, brushing his hand. David passed unnecessarily close to him, dragging his hand across Patrick’s back as he reached for the chip bowl. All night they found innocuous reasons to touch, to look, to smile. Alexis and Stevie took turns making suggestive faces at David when they thought Patrick couldn’t see, and he took it as a good sign that David kept flirting despite them. 

The party wound down, but David didn’t leave, uncharacteristically cleaning up when their numbers dwindled, until it was just Alexis, Stevie and a half-asleep Ted on the couch. Patrick saw Stevie nod at Alexis out of the corner of his eye, and Alexis scratched the top of Ted’s head. 

“Come on, sleepyhead, it’s time to go home,” she whispered. 

They said their goodbyes, telling Patrick how much fun they’ve had, how nice his apartment is. David had his back turned the entire time, still busying himself in the kitchen. 

They were almost out the door before Alexis called back. 

“Byeeee, David!” 

“Have fun!,” yelled Stevie from the hallway. 

Patrick cringed as he closed the door, his face flushing hot. He turned around, hoping it wasn’t too awkward, and found himself face to face with — 

“_ David _.” 

It came out as a gasp. David, beaming, leaned in. In an instant, their lips were crushing into each other, tongues weaving in and out of each other’s mouths. David bit down on his lip and Patrick groaned at the shock of something so innocuous making him feel so _ much _ . Soon David was sucking on his neck, and Patrick knew he’d have a hickey tomorrow, but he didn’t care, just wanted _ more _ , _ more _ , _ more _. 

* * *

David knew no good could come from this. He’d been here before, had made this mistake so many times he’d lost count. Patrick was one of the few good constants in his life, and here he was, ready to throw it away for a drunk hookup. He wondered if he would ever learn his lesson. But this was supposed to be a drunk high school sleepover, so what would it be without an impulsive decision that inevitably bit him in the ass? At least this time, maybe it would be literal. 

Patrick was…something else. Stevie and Alexis had insisted, all those months ago, that Patrick was interested in him. But David knew they were wrong, knew no one as good and _ solid _as Patrick could possibly be interested in a trainwreck like him. He’d held out a tiny hope at his birthday dinner, which Stevie swore was a date, but nothing had come from it. They’d said goodnight and he’d waited for Patrick to make a move, until the eye contact became unbearable and David had to escape. 

Patrick was just nice. He was just flirtatious. David had seen Ken, _ fucking Ken _ , give Patrick his number in the store, ask _ David _ for the piece of paper to write it on. He’d had to swallow the bile down afterward, pretend that he wasn’t seething with jealousy, trying to ignore Alexis’s pitying looks and transparent attempts to change the subject. He’d tried to cover his tracks later, asking Patrick about “ _ what’s his name? The guy from the other day? _” He’d been forced to listen to Patrick’s stories about their dates, and pretend to be excited for him. David had cried himself to sleep that night. 

Alexis hadn’t been any more subtle tonight than in the store, turning the bottle toward Patrick. David had been mortified, silently cursing his sister for the rest of eternity, but then he’d looked at Patrick, and there had been something there, a want that mirrored David’s. He’d made a joke, hoping it would lighten the mood, that if he’d misread the situation Patrick would think it had just been the booze and the game. At least he could pretend for five seconds that it was real, would have something to cling to the next time he cried himself to sleep over Patrick. 

The kiss had been electric. He’d felt naked, like every single person in the room could see what he’d worked so hard, _ so goddamn hard _, to hide for months. 

And then Patrick had spun, and it had landed on _ him _ , and David’s brain had shut off. And Patrick, the fucker, had _ winked _, and shoved his tongue into his mouth, and David would have sucked him off right there in front of everyone if he’d asked for it. 

It was game over then. David knew this dance – this was his comfort zone. It was a thigh bump here, a drink refill there. It was a thousand different touches and glances and winks, all leading up to the moment when you could escape, to the stall of a bathroom or the back of a car, to a 2000 square foot SoHo live/work space, or a tiny studio apartment in Lower SC. 

He rolled his eyes at Alexis and Stevie, drunk and obnoxious, doing their best to make it awkward as they left the apartment. They had been at it all night since the kiss, making faces at him behind Patrick’s back, winking whenever they caught the two of them talking. Alexis had even made a comment about “letting mom and dad know you’re not coming home tonight before they worry” right in front of Patrick, and David had wordlessly mimed slitting her throat when Patrick turned away. 

But right now, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was already halfway across the room, and by the time Patrick turned around, he was a foot away. His name came out of Patrick’s mouth in a tone he’d only imagined in the darkest corners of the night and David was _ done _. 

He’d kissed Patrick before he could overthink it, before he let his anxiety get the better of him. It was too late anyway -- whatever was ruined was ruined. They may as well have a fun night out of it, right? Then Patrick had groaned in his mouth, and shoved him against the wall, and David had stopped worrying about anything that wasn’t _ this. _

* * *

David woke up with a dull headache and, by the looks of the light, way too early. In the seconds it took him to come to, he wondered why his sheets felt so soft, and how he had managed to stretch out so much on his twin bed. The night came back to him with a start, and he turned to find a still-sleeping Patrick, limbs splayed out at odd angles. 

_ Fuck _ , he mouthed silently. He’d meant to leave last night, but Patrick had nuzzled into his shoulder as they came down from their orgasms, and the _ five more minutes _ David promised himself had stretched into sleep. 

He had to get out of there before the morning-after sobriety made things too weird to salvage. He was halfway dressed in the clothes he’d meant to wear to the party until Patrick had given him _ matching pajamas _as a thank you for his help, one leg through his Rick Owens shorts before he heard a muffled grumble behind him. 

“David? What’re you doing?” Patrick’s voice, gruff from sleep, made David’s stomach curl in the worst, most hopeful way. 

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and turned around, willing his voice to sound casual. 

“Hey!” He cringed, his attempt at a whisper coming out way too loud and enthusiastic. “Ummm...I gotta get back to the motel. Stevie needs uhh…needs my help with something.” 

Patrick wrinkled his face, eyes half open, and looked at his phone. 

“It’s six in the morning,” he said, sounding a little incredulous. “You won’t even talk to people before ten. Come back to bed.” 

_ Fuck _ . Patrick was a morning-after cuddler. _ Fuck _. David couldn’t do this. He could not do this and still recover afterward. 

But his legs betrayed him, and against his will he found himself back under the covers, Patrick’s arm around his waist, nuzzling into the back of his neck, kissing the top of his shoulder. David lay there a while, willing his heartbeat to calm down, to just enjoy it while it lasted. Patrick pulled him in tighter, their bodies pressed together now, and David felt Patrick hard against him. David was disappointed despite himself, sure now that Patrick had only called him back to bed so they could hook up again. David felt whatever tiny ember of hope he’d been holding onto extinguish. 

_ Fuck it_, he thought.

He turned over under Patrick’s arm before he could second guess himself, and pressed a kiss to his jaw. Patrick smiled slowly, coming to, before his eyes fluttered open. 

They were kissing again, and David lost himself in it, lost himself in the feeling of Patrick’s tongue darting into his mouth and his fingers ghosting down David’s back. David was sure this is what would haunt him, these lazy morning kisses, during the lonely nights at the motel, reckoning with the weight of what he couldn’t have. 

But then Patrick’s hand wove itself into David’s hair, and David moved to the already-red spot on Patrick’s collarbone he’d found last night, the one that had made Patrick groan his name. 

“David, _ fuck…” _

In one clean motion, Patrick hooked his leg around David’s thighs and flipped David on top. It was all at once too much and not enough, and he was determined to make it count.

* * *

David woke the second time to the smell of coffee, and opened his eyes to find Patrick standing in his kitchen, busying himself over two mugs. David’s heart swelled. For one wild second, he let himself think about an impossible future, one where Patrick wanted David the same way he wanted Patrick. Where Patrick told David this is what he had wanted all along, that all the flirtation in the beginning hadn’t just been harmless. That he wanted to give this a try, couldn’t imagine his life without... 

He rubbed his hands over his face, pushing the thoughts away. If there was one thing he knew, it was that his life was not a romcom. He’d had that proven to him time and time again. 

_ Pull it together, don’t get attached _. 

It was a mantra, built over years of hopeful nights with people who never gave him a second thought. But Patrick, at least, was his friend. If they were going to do this, he’d have to set boundaries for himself. No more sleepovers, for one. He’d be an adult, would talk to Patrick, figure it out together. They worked well together, they could manage this too. 

It would be fine. He just had to get through this morning. 

* * *

Patrick boiled the water and pulled out a tea bag for himself before moving to fill a tiny French press with coffee grounds. The coffee pot had been a gift from his mom when he went away to school, for the tiny dorm room with barely enough space for a kettle, much less a large coffee maker. He never drank coffee anymore, but he’d kept it for sentimental reasons. When the electric kettle flipped off, he poured some in his mug, and filled the French press to the top.

He’d told himself he’d brought the bag of coffee from the shop for whatever company he might have over, but it was David’s favorite dark roast, heeding the tiny “just in case” that lived in the dark corners of his brain, never quite letting up. 

Lost in his thoughts, he pushed the plunger down to strain the coffee and poured it into a mug. He had none of the ingredients that went into David’s revolting coffee order, and hoped milk and sugar would do. 

He grabbed the two mugs and turned to find David, eyes open, just peeking out from under the covers. Patrick smiled, feeling a little euphoric. He’d hoped for this so many times, and seeing David in his bed, usually-perfect-hair disheveled from sleep, was even better than he’d imagined. 

“Morning,” he said, handing the coffee to David, who sat up to grab it with both hands. Patrick got back in bed next to him, sitting up with his tea. 

“Thank you,” David said quietly. 

“I didn’t have any of the ah…_ specialty _ ingredients you usually take with your coffee, so you’ll have to contend with milk and sugar.”

David took a sip of the coffee with a small smile. 

“Someone’s been busy,” he said, gesturing at the coffee and the spotless apartment. 

“Yeah I couldn’t go back to sleep after…you know...,” Patrick said sheepishly. “So I figured I’d get clean up out of the way so we wouldn’t have to worry about it later.” 

Patrick winced, hoping he didn’t sound presumptuous, like he expected David to spend the rest of the day with him. 

David took another slow sip of his coffee, looking ahead.

“Listen, if you have any regrets about last night, I get it…” 

“What? No, why would I have regrets?” 

David chuckled nervously. “Um…I think it’s just a habit? To ask?’ 

Patrick smiled. “No, no, last night was good…really good. And this morning.” 

David looked at him now, a real smile on his face. “Mmmm, and what part, exactly, was _ really good _?” 

Patrick put his mug down and leaned in toward David. 

“Not sure. It’s been a few hours, I didn’t get much sleep. You might need to remind me.” 

“Oh, okay.” 

David grinned up at him while he set his mug down, and tilted his head to meet Patrick’s mouth. 

Their drinks had long since turned cold on the nightstands by the time David was done jogging Patrick’s memory. 

* * *

They spent the day in bed, mostly undressed, Patrick once leaving to get them sandwiches from the cafe after David complained that he couldn’t “maintain this level of physical activity on an empty stomach.” 

Patrick could hardly believe his luck. He’d never had a better day in his life. They couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. David even followed Patrick into the shower, much to Patrick’s shock, who mocked David for his “incorrect” hygiene practices until David slid down to his knees and sucked Patrick clean. 

Patrick was in awe of every inch of David’s body, from how incredible his broad shoulders looked bare, down to the soft black hair that covered most of the places usually hidden by his sweaters. It was while nuzzling the particularly thick trail of hair that ran from David’s belly button to his pelvis that David cleared his throat and brought Patrick out of his blissful haze. 

“So…we should probably talk about _ this _,” said David, motioning at Patrick’s head very nearly in his crotch. 

Patrick planted one last kiss on David’s hip bone and rolled over onto his side to look up at him. 

“Ok. What do you want to talk about?” 

“I mean, if we’re going to keep doing this, I think we should set some ground rules.” 

“And by this you mean…?”

“This, this whole _ friends with benefits _thing. Or I guess, in this case, business partners with benefits. That’s what this is, right?” His voice sounded small. 

Patrick felt his heart jump to his throat. After David had stayed this morning, and the coffee, and lunch, he had thought…

“Oh,” he cleared his throat. “Well, who doesn’t like extra benefits at work?” 

“Patrick.” 

“Sorry, sorry. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I don’t know,” David said, hands starting to wave wildly. “I was hoping you’d have some ideas.” He was quiet for a moment before continuing, his voice much softer this time. “I’ve been known to self-sabotage, so I’m really trying to avoid, you know, losing my friend and my business in one blow.” 

The retort left Patrick’s mouth before he could stop it. 

“Well, David, not that I’m counting, but that was definitely more than one blow.” 

David’s swatted his shoulder, and shook his head, but his eyes were twinkling as he looked at Patrick. 

His crack had bought him some time, but Patrick’s mind was running at full speed. He thought about fessing up, telling David that no, he was mistaken, that Patrick wanted all in or nothing. That he knew David hadn’t been interested when he’d asked him out last year, but that if he was now, Patrick wanted to give this a shot. But one look at the bare, honest look on David’s face and his resolve crumbled. 

“Okay...I mean, we probably shouldn’t have sex at the store.” 

“Well, that’s a shame,” said David, smiling. “But you _ are _ in charge of business decisions, so I guess you’re right. Though, I could get pretty creative if I wanted to.” 

Patrick had to suppress a snort. If David knew how reckless Patrick felt right now... 

“Anything else?” 

“I don’t know David. Can’t we like, figure this out as we go? This is new for me too.” 

David looked like he was about to say something, but closed his mouth, nodded and smiled. 

“Okay, yeah, I can work with that.” 

He smiled then, and pulled Patrick up for a searing kiss that sent Patrick’s heart rate soaring. 

_ You can do this _ , he thought to himself. _ This is better than nothing. _

* * *

They broke their only rule in four days. 

It started off tame enough: Patrick swatting David’s ass out of sight while customers were in the store, David getting unnecessarily handsy whenever he had to pass by Patrick. But that morning David had been reaching to restock something on the top shelf, and Patrick had flipped the open sign and dragged David in the back. When he’d asked about it later, Patrick had just shrugged and said, “your shirt rode up and I wanted you,” as casually as if David had asked him the time. 

For weeks, they still couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. Patrick countered David’s bouts of insecurity that Patrick was losing interest with a seemingly insatiable want for David’s body, flaunting a recklessness David hadn’t thought his buttoned-up business partner was capable of. 

On one particularly hectic Friday flooded with nonstop customers and vendor deliveries, Patrick once again dragged David into the office during a rare lull and dropped to his knees. Then the godforsaken bell chimed, and Patrick walked out of the office with a smirk, leaving David slumped against the wall, panting, with his pants around his knees. 

When Patrick returned a few minutes later, David still hadn’t recovered. Patrick smiled mischievously as he kissed David and helped him pull his pants up. 

“Time does not seem to be on our side today, huh?” he said with a smirk. 

David grumbled into Patrick’s shoulder, still slouched down the wall. 

“Didn’t quite catch that,” said Patrick, still smirking. 

“You’ll just have to make it up to me tonight,” David managed to get out. 

Patrick laughed into a kiss and took a step back to let David compose himself. 

“Tonight, huh?” he said, and crossed his arms. “Hey, why don’t you come over a little earlier and we can have dinner.” 

David looked up, still a little light headed, and blinked at him. 

“Oh…you don’t have to…you don’t have to do that. I’m a sure thing, you don’t have to like, put on a show.” He managed a weak laugh. 

“No, I want to. I thought dinner might be nice,” he said, and paused, looking nervous. “Plus, tomorrow’s the one year anniversary of our opening. We should celebrate.” 

David had forgotten, somehow, that it was this close, had lost himself in the last few weeks with Patrick. He knew he should say no, shouldn’t cross the boundaries he set for himself. But he was weak-willed against Patrick’s sincerity, his mouth betraying him as hopelessly as his legs had the morning Patrick had asked him to come back to bed. 

“Ok, yeah, sure,” he said, and cleared his throat of the emotion. “We can do dinner.” 

_ It’s just takeout and sex. This was your regular Tuesday in New York. You’ll be fine. _

* * *

David stopped off at the motel for a shower before heading to Patrick’s. He came out of the bathroom to find Alexis slipping in some earrings, dressed for a night out. 

“David, can you drop me off at Ted’s on your way to Patrick’s?” she asked, grabbing her eyeliner and looking in the mirror. “We’re supposed to have dinner.” 

“Um, what makes you think I’m going to Patrick’s?” 

She looked up at him with a patronizing smile. 

“Because, David, you’ve spent basically every night at your boyfriend’s house for like a month.” 

“Okay, _ first _ of all, he’s not my boyfriend. Secondly, I slept over _ one _time after the party, and I’ve slept in my bed literally every other night.” 

Alexis had gone back to doing her makeup. 

“Mmk, David? Coming back here at 4am after ‘taking a nap,’” she made nasty little air quotes with the hand holding her eyeliner, “at Patrick’s doesn’t _ actually _count as not sleeping over. Plus, I’ve seen the way you look at him. You’re smitten.” 

He narrowed his eyes at his sister’s back. 

“Is this supposed to persuade me to do you a favor? Because you’re doing a great job.” 

“I’m just _ saying _,” Alexis taunted, “You’d better do something soon and seal the deal because you’re starting to look like a pathetic, little lamb following Patrick around, and it’s getting hard to watch!” 

“Kay, thanks so much!” He stood up from the bed, grabbed the keys and stalked toward the door. Looking back over his shoulder, he called back, “Enjoy your walk!” 

He heard one last “ugh, David!” before the door shut behind him. 

* * *

Alexis’s words echoed in his head the entire drive. His sister was, quite possibly, the most annoying person on earth. 

She also had no idea what she was talking about. There was no deal to seal. Patrick wasn’t interested in dating. He was making up for a lifetime of bad sex with a convenient hookup, and David had happened to be there. He’d played this role before, the exploratory fling when someone came into their sexuality. He had known what he was getting himself into. They had set boundaries — and admittedly broken some, but who was counting — so as long as he kept his emotional distance, David would be fine. _ After all, _ he reasoned with himself, _ having Patrick like this is better than not having him at all. _

But when David reached Patrick’s door, a familiar smell he couldn’t place hit him in the face. He walked in to find Patrick standing over the stove with what looked like stir fry, still dressed in his baby blue button down and jeans. 

“Smells good,” David said, trying to sound casual. He’d expected a takeout pizza, not a home cooked meal. “What is it?” 

“Oh, it’s pad thai. You really like it, don’t you?” 

David loved pad thai. It was his favorite, in fact, and impossible to find anywhere near Schitt’s Creek. And he was sure he’d only mentioned it to Patrick once, a couple of months ago, when he was waxing poetic about the few things he missed about New York, including the Thai restaurant around the corner from his apartment in SoHo. It made David think of all the other details Patrick remembered, like David’s complicated coffee order and his paralyzing fear of heights. 

“Uh, yeah, I do. Thanks,” he said tightly, fighting back the emotion in his throat. 

“I grabbed a bottle of that white wine you like from the Elm Grove winery. It’s in the fridge. Wanna pour us a couple glasses?” 

David felt himself going through the motions, pouring wine and making small talk, while his chest got progressively tighter. Patrick kissed him lightly in thanks when he handed him the wine, and spooned some pad thai straight from the pan into David’s mouth for him to try, but not before blowing on it to make sure he didn’t get burned. The move was so tender that David thought his heart might burst. 

He could feel himself spiraling. Patrick had to stop. _ This _had to stop. It was too domestic, too intimate for David to keep his walls intact. Alexis had been right — he was pathetic, and he needed to get a handle on the situation. 

Patrick loaded up two bowls with noodles and dropped them on the table, sitting down with his wine glass. David sat down across from him and tried to eat, depressed to realize pad thai was probably ruined for him forever now. Could the universe not be a complete dick for once? 

He looked around, hoping for a distraction from Patrick’s perfect fucking face smiling at him across the table, and his eyes landed on a gift bag sitting on the chair next to him. It was very nicely wrapped. 

Patrick followed his eyes and smiled. “That’s ah…that’s actually for you.” 

“Oh,” was all David could manage. 

David couldn’t have guessed that a gift would be his tipping point, but he suddenly felt everything he’d been holding at bay for weeks come flooding in. It was like all the walls he had carefully practiced building over the years weren’t enough to hold back the tidal wave that was Patrick. David had tried _ so hard _ to pretend this, this casual arrangement with Patrick, could somehow be enough. But here he was, about to eat his favorite dinner because he had once told Patrick he missed it, sitting next to a present that Patrick had gotten him, and it was finally too much. David had thought he’d cared for people in the past, been on his way to loving them even, but he had never felt _ this _. He needed more, and Patrick wasn’t interested. The dread of what he had to do settled into his stomach like a lead weight. 

They ate in relative silence. Patrick occasionally asked questions or told a story, and David did his best to nod along and smile at the right times. He spent the meal wondering how he would work up the nerve to end it. David had stayed in some truly disastrous relationships, but none of them had threatened to wreck him like he thought one more night with Patrick might. Patrick’s little nods at intimacy made David feel like he was watching the thing he wanted most in the world from the other side of the glass. 

By the time they’d finished eating, Patrick was looking concerned. He got up to put their bowls in the sink and turned around, bracing himself against the counter with the heels of his hands. 

“Hey, do you want to talk about what’s wrong?” He used his soft voice, and it made David’s heart flutter. 

David stayed quiet, the beginnings of a panic attack creeping into his periphery. 

“David?” 

“Patrick, I can’t do this anymore,” he managed to get out, standing up in a rush as he did. 

David barely registered Patrick’s eyes going wide. 

“What?” 

“I can’t keep doing _ this _,” he said, gesturing at the cleared table and at Patrick, still leaning against the sink. David thought he might give it all up as a joke for Patrick’s forearms. “It isn’t working for me anymore.” 

“Oh.” This time, it seemed like it was all Patrick could muster. His face went blank. 

“I’m sorry, I really thought I make this work. I used to be really good at this, compartmentalizing and keeping things casual,” David said, feeling himself spiraling out, unable to stop it, moving away from the table. “But this is too much. Kissing me at the store and making me my favorite food and…” he gestured wildly at the table. “…and getting me a _ gift? _” 

Patrick was silent, and David ran his hands over his face and took a step toward him. 

“Patrick, we agreed on boundaries,” he said weakly. “You can’t just buy me presents and wrap them like I’m your fucking boyfriend and expect--” 

Patrick cleared his throat. 

“David, it’s nothing,” he said, gesturing at the bag. “It’s just a gift for…for the store anniversary.” 

David turned and picked it up off of the chair. It was blue, with light blue tissue paper; it matched Patrick’s outfit perfectly. The thought somehow made David more frantic. He needed to make his point, make Patrick see how gifts were not _ nothing. _

“Seriously, David, you don’t have to look at it now—“ 

But Patrick’s voice faltered, and David pulled apart the tissue paper to find a framed receipt for two bottles of body milk. Their first sale at the store, to Twyla’s cousin’s boyfriend. David had gloated about it later. 

He looked up at Patrick, who looked terrified. 

“You kept this?” David’s voice came out small. 

“I actually um…had it framed for your birthday, last year? But there was a delay with the frame and by the time I got it back, I thought it might be weird…”

David’s mind flashed back to Stevie’s text that night, after they’d all left the cafe and Patrick had driven David home, ending the night as platonically as it had started. 

_ “Listen to me. If that gift he’s giving you later is anything even remotely sentimental, he’s into you.” _

“Patrick, you gave me socks for my birthday last year.” 

“Yeah,” he said flatly. 

“You came in the next day, and gave me those Merino wool socks that you’d gotten from Julie before she was our vendor.” 

Patrick nodded. 

“You made a crack about how I was always cold,” David could hear his voice getting higher, and the arm holding the frame was shaking to punctuate his words. He was starting to feel unhinged. “It was a very practical gift. You know, the kind you give a business partner.” 

Patrick had stopped meeting his eye now. 

“But you’re saying you had this framed. Last year. For my birthday.”

At this, Patrick looked up at him, eyes blazing. 

David took a deep breath and a step forward, almost enough to close the gap between them. 

“Patrick,” he said, quieter now that they were standing so close. “My birthday dinner…was that supposed to be a date?” 

Patrick’s eyes were so loud now, David could practically hear them screaming. He nodded his head almost imperceptibly. 

“And tonight?” 

Patrick nodded again, a little harder this time. David realized that look in his eyes was hope. 

David let out a shaky breath. 

“Fuck, I fucking hate it when Stevie’s right.” 

“Wha—“ 

But David was already pulling Patrick toward him with his free hand, and kissing him with everything he’d held back the last few weeks, and everything he’d kept bottled up for a year.

* * *

They stayed up for hours, confessing their feelings in the safety of the night, letting the darkness shroud them. 

Patrick talked about how badly he’d wanted to win David over, how everything he’d done in the months leading up to the opening had been to get his attention. 

David told Patrick about everything Alexis and Stevie had said, face flush in his hands despite the dark, embarrassed that he’d been so clueless. 

“David,” said Patrick, shaking his head in disbelief. “David, I wrote _ grant proposals _ for you! Like two weeks after we’d met! My god, I invited you to come sleep at my place when your sister had lice! How could you not see what I was angling for?”

“I wasn’t used to people being so nice to me!” said David. “You were just bending over backwards to help me with the store, and I thought you must just do that for everyone.” 

Patrick laughed. “I mean, I’m nice, but no, oddly enough, I don’t spend my free time writing up complex business documents for strangers.” 

“It’s just...I couldn’t let myself believe you were interested. I was so scared,” he said. “Because I liked you so much, Patrick. I like you so much.” 

“David,” said Patrick softly, and kissed him until they both stopped thinking about anything else. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for playing! I'm desperate for prompts, so feel free to drop them in the comments or send me a message on Tumblr -- I'm [storieswelove](storieswelove.tumblr.com/ask) there too. 
> 
> And thanks to my two most magical betas, Aulauem and [Helvetica_Upstart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/helvetica_upstart/pseuds/helvetica_upstart), because this fic would be...less than good without them.


End file.
